“I like the blue,” she says stiffly, tearing her gaze from mine.
Skies, I’ve upset her, but I don’t understand how.
“Mayah, what’s—” I start, but the song ends, and the loud thunder of applause swallows my words. We walk toward my father’s table, but my gaze finds her again, concern brimming in my chest. The table overflows with platters of meat, roasted vegetables, and baskets of bread. Mayah looks like she might vomit. Let’s get this formality out of the way and greet my father.
He stands when we reach him, but I can’t bear to look at his face. My jaw is tight—he’s the reason Mother isn’t here today. I dip my chin quickly, before guiding Mayah to a small round table reserved for the two of us.
“What’s wrong?” I ask once we’re seated.
She nods her head toward the banquet tables. “What happens to the leftovers?”
Shit. I didn’t even consider how she’d feel about the lavish dinner. I forget that Tundrayn suffers from scarcity. It’s one of the reasons Tormik proposed an alliance in the first place—for food.
My lips press into a grim line. “They’re thrown away.”
“In Tundrayn, nonwielding children often go to bed hungry,” she whispers. “It’s been worse lately. The Tides give less and less. Fishermen return with empty nets.”
A servant chooses this exact inopportune moment to set down the first course—steamed kale with chopped almonds. I don’t even have time to glare at him. Mayah stares at the plate as though it’s poison.
I reach out, grasping her chin and tilting her face toward me. “The first shipment of food I brought—it will have helped. And the second leaves any day now. Don’t starve yourself to make a point, Mayah. We have abundance here. I’ll make sure it reaches Tundrayn, too.”
A spark of warmth flickers in her gaze, there and gone. My wife nods slowly and takes a cautious bite.
Course after course arrives, and I make sure Mayah tries everything. Every dish is new to her, and her wonder at the different tastes and smells and textures is endearing.
Nobles greet us during the meal, nearly all of them lying through their teeth. A tall nobleman leans across our table, not even bothering to acknowledge Mayah. “Your union has already made waves, sire. It’s all the people can talk about—a new era of peace.”
My neck prickles before he’s even done speaking.
It’s all I can do not to throw something at him. “We’re absolutely thrilled to be the kingdom’s favorite conversation topic,” I manage to grit out.
He’s barely walked away when the aggressive clacking of boots approaches us. Even without his familiar footsteps, I’d recognize the manic thrum of his energy signature anywhere.
It’s Faramir.
And he’s wearing a bright turquoise tunic that matches Mayah’s gown perfectly—even better than mine. The asshole’seven styled his blond hair in Tundrayni braids. My hand tightens around my glass, a fast-burning rage crackling in my veins.
“Brother! Mayah! Many, many congratulations to you both,” Faramir exclaims with a wave of his hands.
I debate stabbing him with my dinner knife.
“Thank you,” I growl instead in an unparalleled display of restraint.
Faramir studies Mayah’s face, beady eyes trailing down her neck, before settling on her breasts. The tidesdamned asshole licks his lips.
I. Will. Kill. Him.
Thunder shatters the night. The air crackles as I rise, fists ready to pummel him. He’s dead. He’s fucking dead. He’s—
Mayah’s hand on my forearm freezes me in place. She raises her eyebrows at me expectantly, message clear in her sapphire eyes.
She doesn’t want me to engage.
With a stifled growl, I sit back down.
Faramir grins at me, shrewd eyes flicking between us. “Like my outfit, brother? I wanted to honorMayah.” He lingers over her name, enjoying its taste on his tongue.
I exhale sharply through my nose, willing my breathing to slow. “Only you could make such a beautiful color look disgusting.”
